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Last Stand on Ungstir
category:Classic OtherSpace Logs The Nall declare war on Ungstir after learning of Lord Boromov’s connection to a pirate vessel that attacked the Sal’thrla. Now, a day of reckoning comes from the already shattered and tested planet… Ungstir Landing Pad Rough hewn walls of iron and basalt, grooved by machinery used to carve this spaceport facility out of the glinting black and gray rock, rise on all sides of the broad pad that provides ample room for starships to perch during their stay on Ungstir. Bright sulfurous lights seem to cast the chamber - with its atmosphere containment field forming a sort of life support bubble - in permanent daylight despite the gloomy darkness and stars that loom beyond. Through the field, silhouetted by the glow of the distant star Perseverance, one can make out the rolling, drifting shapes of rocks and planetoids - remnants of the world to which this chunk once belonged. Squat, dark-haired technicians with pale skin and gruff demeanors move from ship to ship, checking fuel levels and mechanical fitness of the vessels. An archway leads out of the landing facility and into what appears to be a sort of common area. Owein is caught up in a throng of people shoving onto the landing pad, but he's clearly trying to fight and go *the other way*. "Damn it, you cowards! Stand and fight! Stand and fight!" The landing pad is bustling with activitity, families carrying whatever belonging they can hold push and shove their way into the automated shuttles while the lucky few manage to escape into private vessels. Newt comes out of his ship and just stands there at the boarding tube, mouth agape. Holy cow! Melissa is trying to make sense out of the chaos as she tries to keep the smaller children from getting crushed while preventing the adults from crushing each other, "There's enough room for everyone!" she calls out, "We've just got to keep things organized, more ships are on the way!" Owein gets into a shoving match with a burly-looking miner, who has a gear bag slung over his shoulder and his eyes set on the shuttles. The miner says, "Out of the way, old-timer! I wanna live to see another day, ya hoopin' frag magnet." Owein's eyes get about as big around as his fists, one of which suddenly swings and connects with the miner's jaw, sending the man sprawling at the feet of the virtual stampede. Newt looks over the crowd, not quite believing this. Oh boy oh boy oh boy. There's people everywhere. He scans the crowd, possibly out of a sheer need to get a grip on all of this when he spots someone who may be familiar... "Dad?" he says quietly... mostly to himself. He then waves widlely, "DAD?! ... DAD?!" Melissa's voice can be heard over the dull roar of the masses, "Come on! He's just a kid" she says as she pushes an older woman out of the way and thereby allowing a younger boy to make his way onto one of the shuttles, "WE've gotta keep organized people, there's plenty of ships on their way!" she continues, trying to calm the rowdy crowd. Owein kneels, yanks the miner up off the floor, then tugs the miner loosely to his feet, getting in his face, blustering: "I been livin' on these rocks since before you were a hot sweat on a bedsheet, you son of a sheet hump..." He hears the call of the boy, and his eyebrows knit. He turns, looks toward the source and sees Newt. "Son?" he ventures. And then the miner propels his own fist, slamming Owein in the gut. The older man OOFs! and doubles over, then the miner drives a knee into Owein's jaw, and Newt's dad goes lurching back, sprawling on the floor. Shuttle Ambition swoops in and lands on the pad. MacAlister has arrived. The pad is swarming with evacuees. Owein is sprawled on the floor, bleeding from his mouth - apparently he bit his tongue. And the miner he was menacing is now looming over him. Melissa is standing in the crowd attempting to organize the evacuation. Her voice can be heard ove the dull roar of the rowdy evacuues. Newt's jaw drops as he sees his father get beaten, "HEY YOU!" he shouts, "YOU LEAVE MY DAD ALONE!" and begins to make his way down the ramp and into the crowd, vaguely in his fathers direction and looking like he's in no mood to have his height (or rather the lack thereof) get used against him. MacAlister hobbles down the stairs from the shuttle, the steps taken with measured support of his crutches. He throws his eyes around as he reaches the deck, his face settling into a stern scowl. "Get yer hands off ma, ya dirty skag." His right hand settles into his front pocket. The miner looks around for the protesting pipsqueak. His eyes narrow. Owein sees he's distracted, and takes advantage, lunging in a football-style tackle, aiming for the miner's legs. He connects, and now both men go down in a sprawl as the evacuees flow around them. The evacuation continues as the men fight, the tightly packed crowed of Ungstiri beings seems to have made a pocket aroudn the flailing fighters, it seems it is not the only such pocket in this large cavern. MacAlister looks towards Melissa as he sets his hand back the cross-bar of his crutch. He hobbles on his one good leg, trying to push his way true the panicking evacuees. Newt does his best at fighting his way through the crowd. He kicks what shins need to be kicked. He stomps on what toes need to be stomped and he pushes what needs to be pushed. HE also curses a fair bit and calls out, but not as strongly as before. Somewhere along the line there he seals up his suit fully. Owein rolls in a thrashing duet with the miner, then pins the lunkhead on the floor and crouches over him, then begins using his meaty fists like pistons, hammering away at the now-oblivious and bloody miner beneath him. MacAlister grumbles softly to himself under his breath as he gradually makes his way through the bleating masses. The hard wood of his trusty supports dash out to strategically trip an occasional passer-by, and a casual, "Watch yer step, er," given. The shuttle that Melissa stands in front of closes suddenly and the engines roar as it prepares to take off. There is a cry of protest from the crowd standing around the shuttle, "What the hoop are you doing!" Melissa calls out, "Move back and let it go, there's another shuttle waiting to take its place!" Newt breaks through finally and is about to romp in when he sees his dad has taken care of things... And then he notices something more important... "Dad...?" he says. "DAD..." He doesn't move yet. He just stands there, the expression on his face unseen but the tone in his voice is filled with worry, "DAD!" Owein looks like he might keep pounding away until the miner's head cracks open like a pinata, fists covered with blood other than his own, eyes filled with senseless rage. Then he hears the boy's voice and his fist stops its arcing descent. He looks toward Newt. "Uh...yeah...son, why are you still here?" Newt looks from his father to the err... guy on the ground and then back again, "Err... uhhh... I've uhhh..." he looks at the guy again and then back to his father, "I've come to help." MacAlister diligently makes passes through the throng, finally moving within a few yards of Melissa. He raises his heavily accented voice over the clamour to say, "Whae tha hell is gaein oan ere!" He leans against his left crutch and takes his hand from his right, throwing his rheumy gaze across the queue to the shuttle. Melissa looks up and over the crowd to MacAlister, "Its an evacuation!" she calls out over the crowd, "I suggest you hop on the first shutle out of here you can catch." MacAlister shrugs his shoulders and grunts, saying, "If ya insist, luv." He turns back towards whence he came making his way towards the quickly filling public shuttle. He follows the ebb of the crowd as best he can. Owein grunts a laugh, then shakes his head. He gets off the miner, yanks him off the floor like a sack of rocks, then slings the unconscious form over his shoulder. "My hero." He winks at Newt. "Come on, boy. We'll get you and the bleeder on the next shuttle out." Newt watches his father manhandle the bleeding miner and then shakes his head, "Nuh-uh. I ain't goin yet. I came here to help." He's watching the miner as he says that. Owein narrows his eyes at the boy, then shakes a beefy finger at Newt. "Don't you be disobeyin' yer pop, boy." He then stomps off toward the shuttles, injured man slumped over his shoulder. He calls out: "Got a bleeder for the outbound!" Melissa looks up as Owein calls out, "Make way!" she yells, trying to forge a path for him through the crowd. Newt follows along, "I ain't. But I ain't goin nowhere yet either."" Owein shoves his way through the crowd, blazing a trail with Newt and the bloody miner, until he reaches Melissa and the waiting shuttle. He kneels and dumps the miner on the ground in front of the shuttle, then gets to his feet. "Pack him with the passengers or the luggage. Makes no difference to me." He smiles, then points at the approaching lad in the strange suit. "Make sure he goes along too, yeah?" Newt stops before he gets too close. He heard that. He crosses his arms and says, "No." though it's not in that 100 strong, ultra-defiant and in-yer-face kind of way one could say it. There is just the hint of hesitation there. Melissa kneels down next to the body and takes his pulse, as if to assure he's still alive. Confident that he is she looks up and over at Newt, she frowns as she sees him there, "'ll make sure of it." she tells Owein before standing. Pointing to two woman preparing to get in the shuttle she says, "You two, put him on the shuttle." before turnign her attention to Newt, "Come on Newt, time t board up." MacAlister climbs the stairs to the public shuttle, just making their alloted capacity. He sweeps his gaze once over the area before getting roughly shoved aboard. MacAlister says, "Quit yer pushin, ya dam shite-miner's daughta." MacAlister has left. Shuttle Ambition fires its thrusters and launches off the pad. Owein glances toward Newt and sighs, shaking his head. "Don't be difficult, boy." Melissa seems to agree with Owein on this one, "Come on and board up Newt. There's nothighn you can dohere." Newt stands put, not shifting one bit, his arms still crossed, "There is too. I came on the Mako. I can take people with me and then come back for more and stuff." He finishes that off in a tone that more or less says, "That's what I'm gonna do so nyer." Melissa doesn't argue, instead saying, "Then stop standing here and get on the Mako and open the boarding hatches Captain, we'll have her loaded in a minute. But don't bother coming back." she warns, "The Nalls may already be here when you do." Owein takes a lumbering step toward Newt and crosses his arms. "Boy, you can take some 'vacuees on the Mako, but when you go, you stay gone. You understand? The Nall are comin'." You can so easily imagine Newt biting his lip behind his mask as his father approaches. Infact, he even moves slightly, as if trying to loosen up some of his nervousness, "I'll go onto the Mako and open her up. But I'm gonna come back if I can." Owein shakes his head. "No." He drops to one knee. "Listen to me, boy. I'm talkin' straight: Some of us are stayin' to fight them damn scalebacks. But you...I want you to go with your ma and the others, and be safe. Don't come back here." Newt doesn't say anything for a while and then, "You're coming too." Owein shakes his head, smiling sadly. "Not right now, no." He gets to his feet. "First, I gotta kick some scaleback ass." A group of six Ungstiri, all wearing mix and match armor and boots, with weapons ranging from shivs to plasma rifles, stomp into the landing pad and make their way over to Owein. "Owein," says one of the grizzled old men in the group. "We're settin' up the ambush zones in the caverns. You comin'?" Newt's voice sounds like it's beginning to break up, "But Dad..." His arms fall to his sides kinda limp. Owein nods to the old-timer, then looks back at Newt. "None of that, boyo. You be brave for yer ol' pop, save some o' these good people, and don't be comin' back till I send the all-clear." Melissa reaches out and puts her hand on Newt's shoulder, "Come on Newt, we need your help evacuating these people, let your dad go." Newt doesn't look at Melissa and then he does and then he looks back at his dad. You don't need to be an empath to figure out that emotionally he's not that well off, "But... uhh... uhhh..." and then he moves fast to his dad and tries to give him a hug. "Please..." Melissa's eyes try to find Owein's, sad understanding there. Owein returns the hug, patting Newt on the back. "Yer my brave boyo, Newt. Always have been. Always will be." He smiles down at Newt. "Once we send the scalebacks packin', you come right on back." Newt doesn't let go and you can feel his body heaving in his suit and hear him sobbing. Infact if anything his grip has become tighter and between those sobs he mumbles, "Promise you'll be ok?" Owein pats Newt on the helmet. "Boyo, I'll be better than okay." Newt sobs and says, "Good." but doesn't let go still. "Owein," the grizzled old Ungstiri says, a little sympathy creeping into his rough voice. "The defenses ain't placin' themselves." Owein nods to the older man, then gives Newt a little push. "C'mon, boyo, spunk up. Load folks onto the Mako and beat tracks for Sanctuary, ya hear me?" Newt reluctantly lets go as his father pushes him and answers with a nod and a sniffle, a heavy one at that, but without looking up. Owein glances toward Melissa, smiling faintly, and with a brief wave, he turns and nods to the ragtag band of warriors. "Let's go." Melissa puts her hand on Newt's shoulder giving him a little squeeze through the suit before giving him a little push towards the Mako, "Come on Captain, we don't have time to waste." she says as if speaking to an adult. Newt sniffles once more and tries to wipe his nose but finds his closed helmet in the way. He opens that up and tries once more. "Okay." and he walks towards the Mako but keeps an eye on the direction his father is going in. Owein moves off with the other defenders, and then disappears through the crowd of evacuees. Some hours later… City Commons Carved from the ancient rock of this planetary chunk, this chamber is about sixty yards in diameter with a domed ceiling that is one hundred feet tall at its highest point. In contrast to the spaceport facility, which glows as if illuminated by a supernova thanks to high-powered lamps, this commons is more subtly lit. Shadows fill much of the higher reaches of the dome, while soft bluish-white lights provide a twilight glow to the rest of the chamber. Archways lead to the spaceport, a tavern, and the planetoid's commercial and residential districts. Owein strides into the commons, feet thumping on the ground, now clad in a Kevlar vest and cradling an assault rifle. MacAlister nods firmly to the man, his eyes sweeping across the faces of the assembled people. A small groups is gathered just outside the tavern, MacAlister is standing on the outskirts of the group, Melissa is off to the side, everyone seems to be listening to a rough looking miner, a comm-link in his hand. Owein sees the familiar face of the doctor, and his brow knits. He walks toward her, lowering the barrel of his gun. "Doc, you shouldn't be here." Melissa looks over at Owein and raises an eyebrow, "Neither should you. You've got a family to raise." she tlels him, "But it seems nonetheless we both are." Owein grimaces at the point Melissa made. "We're dealing with Nall, here, Doc. If you're just lookin' for a chance to patch people up - forget about it. There won't be anyone left to patch up." He tries not to say this too loud. MacAlister shifts on the ground with a faint scrape of his tangler. His eyes dart towards Owein for a brief moment. The old miner shifts his attention at the sound of footsteps and to Owein as he approaches, "Ow.." he begins to say somethign but stops when he realizes Owein is speaking with Melissa. MacAlister pulls from the inside pocket of his coat a paper packet of cigarettes. He flicks the pack, allowing one to emerge, and grasps it in his lips. Melissa narrows her eyes a moment, "Either way, its too late to argue about it now isn't it...and I've fought a Nall before. I know what they're capable of." she nods her head towards the miner, "I think your needed." she tells him. Owein nods slowly, realizing the futility of arguing further, and approaches the miner. MacAlister gradually pats down the from of his coat, eventually retrieving a chrome lighter. He flicks it open and thumbs the steel, bringing the yellow flame to the end of the cigarette. The miner gives him a questioning glance but it lasts only a moment before he says, "I was letting 'em know how it was gonna be, you wanna tell 'em something?" Owein glances from the miner to the gathered militia members. He nods slowly, cradling the rifle in his hands. "It's gonna be bloody. The Nall are fierce little bastards. They move in quick teams of three. They don't take prisoners if it ain't convenient, and I can tell ya right now, we're mighty inconvenient." Melissa has left. Nemoni Pirate Carrier arrives from Residential District . Nemoni Pirate Carrier has arrived. MacAlister returns the lighter to his jacket and pulls the cigarette from his mouth. His eyes squint almost shut as smoke run in them. Nemoni Pirate Carrier comes out of the Commercial District, escorted by a rather impressive array of tiny destroyers, cruisers, scout ships, several battleships, and at least 12 fighter squadrons. A voice comes over the colony public address system: "The Clawed Fist Fleet has decloaked in-system! Six destroyers, two battlecruisers and two support ships!" The loudspeaker voice shouts: "Stand by, launching militia fighter wing!" MacAlister rises to his feet with the aid of his rifle. His brow furrows as he looks around. Owein shakes his head, frowning, looking toward Melissa. Nemoni Pirate Carrier continues towards the landing area, its escort fleet keeping a tight formation around it. The smaller, faster vessels shift forward to make a defensive line, and the rest of the escort vessels pull in behind them, with the carrier at the rear. If one were a football player, you'd think they were forming up to make a touchdown run. Owein looks toward MacAlister. "Let's form up behind a barricade." MacAlister nods, tossing the cigarette to the ground and smashing it with the thick heel of his boot. "Right." he says falling in behind Owein. The loudspeaker voice declares: "Holy sheeee-at...hoopin' hell...24 Nall fighters moving to intercept our six fighters." Owein drops into a crouch behind a toppled console, rifle in hand, directing his attention toward the landing pad. Melissa looks up at the sound of the loudspeaker and puts her left hand in the pocket of her jacket before moving off to follow Owein and MacAllister. MacAlister takes up a supporting position near Owein, sitting down on his bottom as he sets his eyes on the way from the landing pad. Owein glances over at MacAlister and extends a hand. "Owein Panderyn." Melissa moves off to the left of Owein to crouch behind the Outland Outfitters Station. MacAlister switches his rifle from his right hand to his left as turns his lips into a smile, reaching the now feed hand towards Owein to shake his. "Donal MacAlister. Pleasure." Owein smiles crookedly, then glances back toward the landing pad. He shakes his head, sighing. "Not the way I planned to spend my Sunday." MacAlister chuckles softly as he brings his feet under him, peering over his cover. "Thank god ah tidied up tha rent, aye?" Melissa snorts a little, "Don't think this is the way any of us planned to spend our Sunday." she says from behind the booth. Owein smirks and nods. He looks at Melissa and nods. Then, he says, "Thanks for helpin' with my boy this mornin'." Melissa shakes her head slightly, "Don't mention it, he's a good kid got no reason to be here but stubborn enough to do it anyways." Owein nods. "He's his father's son." The voice over the loudspeaker says: "The Ungstir Militia fighters are converging on the Nall fleet..." Melissa chuckles slightly at that, "And rather proud of it." she tells him, eyes moving up to the hidden loudspeakers once more, "Well...seems like it'll be show time soon." Owein looks from Melissa to the landing bay, then back at the doctor. "Listen, it's not too late...not yet. Get in there, grab a rockhopper and catch a ride with those boyos on the Venture." MacAlister switches his rifle back to his right hand and rests his elbow on the edge of the console. He calls towards the speakers, "Giv tha scaleys hell!" He waves his barrel at it menacingly. Melissa turns her eyes to the landing pad then back over to Owein, "I can't." she tells him, "We already ran once..if we run this time, there won't be anything left to run back to." MacAlister seems to catch the last part of what Melissa says. He nods towards her, "Too right, luv." before returning his eyes to the commons. Owein nods, understanding. "All right." He checks the load in his slugthrower rifle. Unlatches the safety. "Bring it on, ya wee bastards." Melissa brings a pulse pistol out from her pocket, she doesn't look completely comfortable holding it in her hand though she knowledgbly removes the safety with no problem, "If someone can use its, i've got a tangler gun..might serve to slow 'em down." MacAlister flicks the latch from semi- to fully-automatic with his thumb, and drops his right elbow from the edge. He lowers his knee to the ground and steadies his left arm, bringing the handgrip into his hand. MacAlister winks with a *click-click* of his tongue, still gazing at the way to the landing pad. "Already got one." Owein looks over at the tangler gun, then shakes his head. "No, doubt that. It'll just piss off the ones we miss even more. Still..." He shrugs. "What the hell? You wanna, I ain't stoppin' ya. But I'll stick with my handy Nallstopper." Melissa nods to Owein and places the pulse pistol, safety off in her waistband. MacAlister begins to bob up and down, his arms quivering slightly. He reaches into his jacket to retrieve his packet of cigarette, one of which he lights. Owein leans against the barricade, double-checking his ammunition, and then he squints as he thinks about something. "Shit." He looks at MacAlister, then at Melissa, then back at MacAllister. "Six destroyers and two battleships. Twenty four fighters. We are so hoopin' dead." Melissa grimaces a little as she talies up the number in her head, "Wel, as many as tem as they are, I still say we can outsmart the whole hoopin' bunch of 'em." MacAlister takes the cigarette from his mouth, his left hand supporting the rifle by the barrel. He glances towards Owein, then chuckles dryly with a small smirk. "Life-o-tha-party ye r." Owein chuckles darkly, then looks over at MacAlister. "Ya don't see me runnin' from it, now do ya?" MacAlister shakes his head and returns the cigarette to his mouth. He begins to pulls on the lobe of his ear. MacAlister says, "Jist make sure we goat an escape route." Melissa wipes her hand on her pant leg, "An' who knows. Couple of grenades will stop even a Nall." Owein grins, then returns his attention to the landing pad in the distance. "Besides...I had a good run, right? Lived three centuries longer than I shoulda." MacAlister takes a long drag from his cigarette before saying, "Ah had a good go, ah suppose. Coulda bin bettah." Melissa shifts some from where she's crouching, "Come on now...we're given up before we've even gottan started.." Melissa shifts her eyes to Owein, "We survived the Krets, the Thulls, a universe change..what the hoop are we scared of a bunch of scalebacks for." Owein looks over at Melissa, eyebrow going up. "Scared? Watch yer mouth, sister." Melissa gives him a sideways grin, apparently getting the reaction she was going for, "Just seemed to me you where getting a little shaky there, thats all." she says hand reachign for the energy pistol at her side. Owein knits his eyebrows. "Shaky, nothin'." He hefts the rifle. "Steady as a rock." He winks. Then he rests the barrel on the barricade. "Ain't scared. Just cursed with math skills." MacAlister tries to keep the cigarette cupped in his hand as he slowly draws in its length. "Ah'd ratha be in tha tunnels, but thissel havtae dae." A voice over the loudspeaker shouts: "All right! A Nall got plastered by a rock! We got Ungstir behind us, hoopin' yeah!" Melissa unlatches the energy pistol and brings it up to bear on the door, "STill say grenades'll do the trick...don't care how big their claws are..grenades'll tear um to shreds." The voice over the loudspeaker says: "Scratch one Ungie fighter. Down to five..." MacAlister nods as he glances towards the speaker. "Hoopin straight, ya blind bastards." He takes another drag, grinning wryly. His expression soon fades. Melissa begins to comment on how the numbers are looking better then shakes her head stopping her diatride, "Welp..less the negative count is even." Owein glances up at the loudspeaker. "Ya know, maybe if he just shut up and told us when the Nall are landin', that'd be nice." Melissa chuckles at that. MacAlister draws the back of his hand across his brow, removing some of the beaded sweat that has formed there. Melissa shifts her eyes to Owein, "So why'd you stay?" she asks. The loudspeaker voice declares: "Two Nall fighters down! But...damn...another Ungstiri fighter goes. We're down to three, folks." Owein winces at the news, then looks over toward Melissa, shrugging. "Where else would I go?" Melissa tries to ignore the loudspeaker as she shrugs slightly, "Sanctuary?" MacAlister takes a long last drag off the cigarette and tosses it at the ground forcefully, his brow furrowing. Owein chuckles, shaking his head. "Nah. This rock has always been good to me. I didn't leave her before. I won't leave her now." The voice over the loudspeaker says, somberly: "The Ungstiri Militia fighters are wiped out. The Nall fleet is closing in for landing." Melissa looks up at the loudspeaker this time and sighs. "This is it.." Owein nods. "Damn straight." MacAlister's breath picks up as he rises into a firing position behind the console. A soft chuckle emits from his throat. He lets his eyes sight along his rifle. The soldiers that have been milling about start to disperse to their various stations. MacAlister says, "Ye can't take her from ma, ya scaley mags." Melissa keeps the stun gun in her hand for now. Owein hefts his rifle, sighting down the barrel, sweat beading on his broad forehead. Melissa speaks up, "Good luck gentlmen." MacAlister nods his head, sweat rolling from his skin onto the ground. "Tae ye as well." He runs his tongue over his cracked lips, and sniffs his nose. Owein nods. "We don't need luck. We got stubbornness." Melissa smiles a bit at that, "Ungstiri tough." she says. Owein twists his mouth slightly, watching the landing pad, knitting his brow. Sweat trickles down his forehead. "They prayin' or landin'?" Melissa responds, "If they're smart, buggin' off." MacAlister begins to chew on the inside of his lip. His short red hair is clumped together with sweat. The sounds of claws clacking on stone can be heard in the distance. "Guess they ain't any smarter then cave bugs." she decides. MacAlister draws in his breath and holds it, hunkering further behind the console. His grip shifts on his rifle. Meanwhile, the view from the Nall…(This goes back in time slightly, to accommodate the space battle from the Nall perspective) Command Centre - Command Module - Sal'thrla The first thing that strikes you about this room is a sense of luxury quite uncommon in Clawed Fist Fleet ships. The atmosphere is the same hot and humid one as everywhere else, but the walls have a decorative gold line going all the way around. Also, both the mobile command chair and the seats for the other consoles look unusually comfortable. Chains hang from the ceiling, which is dotted with bright lights on which drops of condensed water have accumulated. The front of the room is covered with monitors and display screens. Hurkvril strides into the command center, tail swishing back and forth, claws clack on the deck as he moves in to observe the assault. Sich sits behind the nav console, dilligently paying attention to her flying. The Huth occasionally takes shots at the Ungstiri fighters. Ungstiri fighters return fire, a Nall craft bursting into flames. The damaged fighter floats to a stop, derelict. About then another fighter, this one Ungstiri, explodes in a violent display of flames and detonating fuel. The Nall craft who made the fatal hit pull her to starboard to avoid the explosion, and ends up stearing straight into chalky black astroid, the following explosion doesn't seem to affect the rock at all. TCV Venture maneuvers carefully, keeping as far away as possible from the swarms of fighters that dart about the deadly field. The ship arcs around, following the progress of the fighter squadrons as they sweep through the rock fragments approaching Ungstir. The last three Ungstiri fighters begin a desperate pitched battle against a squadron of Nall fighters, but they are soon swarmed and overwhelmed. Although debris in space cripples or destroys six more Nall fighters, the last Ungstiri militia fighters are quickly dispatched. The path to Ungstir is now clear. AC Renegade hangs still, observing the battle from a modest distance. No sooner are the Ungstiri fighters removed, than the troop transports drop from cloak and begin their descent towards Ungstir. The service vessels and battlecruisers begin to slowly orbit the planetoid. Destroyers gather their fighters, then start to drop towards Ungstir. Hurkvril gnashes his fangs. "The private pad. Not the public pad. They will be waiting for us there." Sich bobs her snout, The ship shudders as the drop rockets engage and the ship begins its descent. AC Renegade fires its thrusters as it turns away from the planet. Sich quickly unhooks herself from the nav console, passing it off to an H'thos as she moves towards the landing bay. The landing struts thump against the surface. Hurkvril turns, moving to follow the Huth, plasma rifle held ready. Sich heads into Corridor - Command Module - Sal'thrla. Sich has left. The Nall warriors meet in the airlock before disembarking… Airlock - Core - Sal'thrla This is a round tube, seven feet across, in order to accomodate various equipment needing to be brought aboard through it. The inner and outer doors are both quite heavy in order to stand against the pressure difference between air and vacuum. The walls are plain shiny metal, unpainted. Hurkvril assembles his troops and prepares to disembark. Sich unslings her rifle and checks it one time. She moves to the front of the group, murmurs a small prayer to Nalia, then swings open the hatch ducks out. Sich disembarks to the surface. Sich has left. You disembark to the surface. Private Drop Pad A brightly lit cavern with a badly oiled roll-up door broad and high enough to allow newly manufactured vessels to be taken out onto the Resilience landing pad. Technicians and other workers can be seen hard at work on the newest model ships and rockhoppers available from this company. Chak exits from the Sal'thrla. Chak has arrived. Hurkvril moves from the Sal'thrla with his 9 troops. Chak leads his cohort into battle. Sich and her six talons quickly exit the Sal'thrla. They move to the door into the rest of the rock. The Huth seems quite upset as the door doesn't open. Not taking much time to think, she pulls her rifle to her shoulder and unleashes the weapon on the traitorous door. The door is suitably chastised into oblivion. Chak gives the order for his troops to fan out. Each finding cover in preparation for following their comrades into Her Glory's service. Sich takes a moment to drop her jaw in amusement, then clack it shut and proceed. Vroom! The scent that strikes your olfactory senses upon entering this cavernous chamber carved from the Ungstir rock is a mixture of potpourri and hydraulic fluid. Row upon row of shelves in the back of the chamber are packed with electronic components, turbines, fin-shaped objects. Nestled among them are the unfinished hulls, like giant slugthrower shells, of rockhoppers. The main floor includes a semicircular counter, a hovermount for working beneath hulls of small craft, and what appears to be a very comfortable and deeply cushioned mahogany fainting couch. Chak arrives from Private Drop Pad . Chak has arrived. Sich breezes through the lobby. Nothing to shoot, no reason to stay. Sich heads into Commercial District . Sich has left. Hurkvril leads his three talons (nine total Nall), and proceeds out. You head into Commercial District . Commercial District Bright, garish neon lights compete with each other, trying to draw attention to the store they represent. The gaudy hues of orange, blue, and red glare off the smooth surface of mottled black and gray rock that the chamber is carved out of. Some of the vendors have set up stands, selling a myriad of products, ranging from foodstuffs to slugthrowers. The more fortunate merchants have settled adjacent chambers, hewn ages ago when this area was being mined for its valuable ore. Many pale Ungstiri mill around here, haggling over prices and appraising wares. Occasionally angry shouts break out when a pickpocket or shoplifter attempts a daring escape with stolen goods. A large archway leads to the commons. Numerous tunnels branch out in various directions. Chak arrives from Vroom! . Chak has arrived. Hurkvril emerges from the shop, followed by his three talons, and then swings his snout around. Chak moves swiftly, his six Talons spread in standard formation... covering all directions. Sich's eyes nictate against the harsh lights of the commercial district. She glances briefly to the L'soth, then starts to head in the direction of the commons. Hurkvril follows the Huth and his troops, directing his talons onward. Sich heads into City Commons . Sich has left. Chak runs his amber gaze about the commons, jaws clacking in irritation at the lack of resistance. After a moment a curt hand signal urges his troops onwards. You head into City Commons . City Commons Carved from the ancient rock of this planetary chunk, this chamber is about sixty yards in diameter with a domed ceiling that is one hundred feet tall at its highest point. In contrast to the spaceport facility, which glows as if illuminated by a supernova thanks to high-powered lamps, this commons is more subtly lit. Shadows fill much of the higher reaches of the dome, while soft bluish-white lights provide a twilight glow to the rest of the chamber. Archways lead to the spaceport, a tavern, and the planetoid's commercial and residential districts. And now the two sides collide… Chak arrives from Commercial District . Chak has arrived. Owein is crouched behind a barricade, facing the public landing pad. Melissa is crouched down behind the Outland Outfitters Vendor. Hurkvril enters the commons with three talons - nine Nall total - following him. He shouts in Naliese, "For Nalia's Glory! Sieze the planet!" MacAlister is a bit to the side of Owein, crouched down behind a barricade. Various soldiers and civilians are spread about the area, all of them have weapons, and a good portion of em have a rather determined look in their eyes. Sich and Chak have their own contingent of talons. Owein hears that - coming from absolutely the wrong way - and his eyes widen and he swings around, rifle cradled in his hands. "Hoopin' goddam!" Chak enters at the head of six Talons of Nall groundtroops, each sheathed in armour and clutching their deadly weapons. With a single hiss they fan into formation, each Talon of three covering their arcs of fire, weapons bobbing as they advance towards the softskins, jaws gnashing, vicious hisses of bloodthirsty glee mingling with the clanking of armour and the slap of clawed feet. MacAlister throws a glance over his shoulder before diving across his cover, getting it between him and the Nalls. Sich is to the front of Hurkvril, her own troops behind her. She pulls the pulse assault rifle to her shoulder, scanning it over the faces of the humans assembled. "Fight and die! Sssssurrendor and ssssurvive!" The Huth snarls. Melissa shifts her weight around as the Nall enter from the wrong direction, "Damnit!" she says, placing her left hand on the top of the vendor as she tries to hop over it and to the other side, placing it between her and the Nalls once more. Chak raises his own rifle, one claw aloft. His entire Talon responds as one, acquiring targets... holding for the signal. Owein stands up, targets the Nall that asked for his surrender and says, "Eat slugs and die, scaleback!" One of the humans towards the front of the group yells, "EAT ME!" before he fires at the Nall that spake. Sich dives to the side as two shots are fired at her. Owein just misses Sich, and scowls, watching his shots go wide right. "Goddammit." Hurkvril says in Naliese, "Fire on the softskin!" Chak drops the claw, firing at the lead row of softskins, jaws spread in a hideous cry of battle. He says in Naliese, "FOR NALIA!" MacAlister brings his rifle over the top of the barricade, sighting in on the closest Nalls. Owein turns and tries to dive over the barricade. The human that fired attempts to get back down under cover. Sich's armor is scraped by the bullet, the energy blast missing all together. She brings her rifle to bare on the softskin with the energy weapon. A spread of three shots is unleashed. Owein doesn't make it. He takes a shot in the back and goes down in a heap, his gun flying out of his hands. MacAlister fire two rapid bursts at the Nalls, both eyes squinted. Chak hisses in glee as his target falls, wreathed in pulse fire. The human goes down two shots burning deep into his chest. Melissa lands on the other side of the barricade and brings her head up, stun gun in hand. She opens fire on one of Chak's talons. The six talons commanded by Chak begin to lay down a withering hail of fire. The mix of pulse and plasma weapons sizzling the air with a coppery scent, lambent energy seeking to snuff life. Those talons that were previously behind Sich step up and fan out, each bringing a rifle to bear on one of the defenders and each one firing. MacAlister sweeps his rifle across the advancing Nalls, holding down the trigger. Hurkvril directs his talons to engage MacAlister, who seems to be lurking behind the barricade. The stun burst slams into the head of Nall that Melissa aimed at and he drops like the overgrown suitcase he is. Chak runs his gaze over the mass of humans, settling on the female who fires on his men. The rifle is raised, a moment of decision.... and then a pulse of deadly plasma is spat at Melissa. As gunfire is exchanged, one, then two, of Sich's warriors fall to the floor. Though it's impossible to tell from whom the successful shots came. The Nall warriors answering to Hurkvril break into squads of three and begin a shrieking hiss in unison before raising their weapons and charging in a rushing wall of lethality. Sich stands and, taking one talon (3) of her warriors with her, starts to circle around towards the otherside of the commons. All the while, they lay cover fire for their movement. The Nall squads leap over the barricade and overwhelm MacAlister, his shots going wild. Melissa reels back as the plasma blast hits her knocking her to the ground. MacAlister slips his hand into his left sleeve, pulling out a dagger as he goes down beneath a heap of hissing battle armor. Chak hisses, eyes burning like coals as he tosses his rifle to one side. One claw hauls the halberd from his back, whirling it as he screams to his men. He says in Naliese, "Talon A with me, the rest fire at will." To a Nall, Talon A discard their energy weapons, halberds and thick Nall swords slicing the air with the ring of steel. They vault from their cover, forming around Chak, a wedge of Nall vitriol. MacAlister's attempt fails. He is pinned to the floor by one Nall, while another sits on his chest, then opens his jaws and drops viciously to tear out his throat. A rather old miner towards the back of the fight pops out from behind a vendor and pops a shot off at Chak. Sich's rifle is brought to bear on the old man the moment his shot is fired. Three shots are sent back in retaliation. MacAlister eyes stare blankly at nothing as blood erupts from his mouth. He slumps limply to the ground under the weight of the Nall. The man's head explodes in a shower of gore as he's hit thrice by Sich's weapon. A bloody-snouted Nall, slick with the lifefluid of MacAlister, deep into berserker rage, leaps to his feet, stares at the ceiling and hisses pleasurably. Chak snaps his jaws at his foe, beginning to advance, his Talon of three at his back. A chorus of hissing and the clack of fangs builds as the pick up speed, rushing the barricades, their weapons held aloft. He says in Naliese, "SOFTSKIN BLOOD FOR HER GLORY!" Another Nall strides over to the fallen body of Owein Panderyn, kicking at the corpse. The battle slowly dies down in the area, the Ungstiri are quite easily overwhelmed by the Nall. Hurkvril swings his snout back and forth, eye membranes nictating as he surveys the combat theater. Melissa lies on the ground behidn the Outland vendor dead, a plasma blast to the chest. Sich and her talon sweep around back of a barricade. Together the group of four releases their weapon's remaining energy into those that happen to be in the way. Nemoni Pirate Carrier pushes forward out of the shadows, led by a rather vast array of similiarly sized support vessels, including destroyers, cruisers, scout craft, several battleships and a dozen fighter squadrons. The support fleet thrusts ahead of the larger carrier in an attempt to engage the Nalls, buying the carrier time to escape. Hurkvril gnashes his fangs, raising his rifle to the ready as he sees the tiny fleet. Chak vaults the cover behind which the softskins so recently cowered, leaping into the fray. The motion of the tiny ships catchs his eye and he darts towards them, swinging his halberd into the mass of support vessels. His men continue, aiding in the butchery of the few remaining Ungstiri. Hurkvril targets one of the support vessels and opens fire. Sich slings her rifle over her back and draws her sword. She nonchalantly makes her way through the piles of wounded, offering Nalia's mercy to those not killed by the shots fired. Chak sets down his rifle. One of the hapless destroyers is struck amidships by the blast, blasting a hole clean through it. Sparking and popping, the ship erupts into flames. Attempting to at least take something down with them, the ship attempts to dive into Chak... The remaining five Talons under Chaks command advance, energy weapons traded for blades as they finish this grisly but satisfying task. Hurkvril barks an order at his talons, who begin their own assault - nine guns total - firing on the support fleet. Hurkvril crouches, aiming his rifle at the carrier. The fighter squadrons begin to swarm around the Nall, firing their tiny lasers at any exposed scales. The Destroyer slams into the ground near Chak, exploding in a mini-fireball. Sich jumps atop a barricade to survey the scene. She hisses an order to her troops. The Huth's five talons of loyal warriors bring their guns to bare on the carrier. Hurkvril tries to dodge the attacks. Nemoni Pirate Carrier thrusts upwards and forward, in an attempt to bypass the Nalls and make a run for the entrance to the hangar. Chak swipes at the Nemoni ship, missing it entirely as it explodes against his armour. Stumbling back, flames licking at his snout he slaps at the burning mass on his chest, hissing in pain. The support vessels all attempt to dodge the hail of gunfire. One of the battleships, being rather bulky, is unable to dodge several direct hits. Riddled with holes, it begins to lose altitude. In a last ditch effort, it too makes a death dive, this time the target being Hurkvril. Hurkvril nictates his eye membranes, swishes his tail and gnashes his fangs before leaping in an attempt to dodge the attack. Seeing their leader struck the the Nemoni ship, Chak's talons once more turn to their beam weapons, firing en masse into the alien fleet. Hurkvril arcs through the air, tail over snout, and comes down on clacking clawed feet, swinging around to target the death-diving vessel, should it pull up. The battleship misses Hurk as he dives out of the way, instead creating a crater in the floor as its supply of nuclear warheads detonate. Chak roars in a mixture of rage and agony as the smouldering mass of the Nemoni vessel fuses with his breastplate. His halberd whistles through the air as he leaps for the Nemoni fleet, seeking to crush as many as he can. The dozen or so warriors left under Sich's command are, with a few loud hisses, directed to follow Chak's talons and open fire into the Nemoni fleet. The nine warriors following Hurk'vril open fire on the main battleship. Chak drives his halberd against the deck, missing the Nemoni vessels as the flit from range. Nemoni Pirate Carrier continues its run for the hangar... All of the carrier's escort have been destroyed by the various Nall firing on it. And the blasts from Hurkvril's talons strike the Holster amidships. Chak swivels to watch the carrier escape. He roars at his men, gesturing at the fleeing ship. He says in Naliese, "BRING DOWN THAT VESSEL!" Before Chak's remaining troops can respond, the L'Soths cohorts perform the task. Sich levels her pulse rifle on the Nemoni Carrier. She pulls the trigger, but is met with only a depressing whine. The Nall growls, grabs the sword from its holster once more, but is unable to do much of anything before the ship crashes to the ground. Nemoni Pirate Carrier is slammed by an utter artillery barrage of laser fire. It is quickly overwhelmed, and explosions riddle it as it is pierced over and over. Finally, it is unable to maintain any altitude, and begins a death drop... Hurkvril raises his rifle in the air and drops his jaw open in amusement amid the carnage and the wreckage. He says in Naliese, "Ungstir is ours! May Nalia be praised!" Chak stoops to recover a fallen weapon, hissing to his men to police the battlefield. He says in Naliese, "Offer these softskins an honourable death." There is deathly silence now, the only sound coming from the patrolling Nall and the hissing of the now destroyed Nemoni ships. Chak raises his weapon high, jaw dropping as he prods a fallen softskin. "Blessed is Her Glory and as her children so are we blessed." Nemoni Pirate Carrier manages to pull up slightly and impacts the ground at a low enough angle to slide to a stop. Sich walks over to Hurkvril, her sword held triumphanty high. She says in Naliese, "Are the vessels on this planet to be seized for Her Glory?" Hurkvril swings his snout toward Sich, nodding. He says in Naliese, "We must establish a base of operations. I will assume oversight duties for that. You will keep the Sal'thrla on patrol in-system to watch for intruders." Nemoni Pirate Carrier remains mostly intact, flames rising from many of the hull breaches over it. Sich nods and raises her talon to Hurk. The Nall hisses in a quite satisfied manner as her and her horde of scaley warriors move towards the landing pad. Hurkvril raises his tattooed palm to the other warriors. He says in Naliese, "You have served Her Glory well this day. Nalia shine on you all." Chak clumps across the field of battle, weapon held casually now. He raises his palm, bobbing respectfully to the L'Soth. He says in Naliese, "Her Glory honours us in allowing our service, noble L'Soth." Sich heads into Ungstir Landing Pad . Sich has left. Hurkvril bobs his snout, then motions for his talons to follow him toward Boromov's palace.